A broken sword; a tale of the civil war (1905)
IT was a soft, balmy'April morning—early April at that—and New York in general, and Grace Church in particular, had been taken by surprise. Furs and heavy overcoats had been the vogue up to Friday night and, as noontide of Sunday drew near, and, with it, the climax of the Doctor's sermon, Brown, the big sexton, had thrown open the outer doors and was actually mopping his brow.
Two young men stood chatting in subdued tone on the stone step at the main entrance when the heavy portals unexpectedly swung inward. Broadway at the moment was silent and well nigh deserted. None of the dozen "bus" lines profaned the Sabbath stillness of those days by jar of hoof or rumble of wheel upon the Russ pavement. Cabs and hansoms were unknown. - A policeman sauntered along the opposite sidewalk in front of the St. Denis. A few private carriages were already drawn up along the curb awaiting the coming forth of their pious owners—some of the coachmen looking choked in their heavy winter capes; but not one moving vehicle;, not a dozen pedestrians, could be.-GQttrited-m the two blocks between Tenth and TwelttH street.---It -was before the days of cable cars. It was before Raines laws had been heard of, yet Phelan's great billiard rooms adjoining the church on the Tenth street side, with everything appertaining to them, were closed.
An almost rural silence reigned. The murmured conversation between the gallants upon the church steps was audible to them and evidently intended to be audible to no one else, for it ceased suddenly as Brown strode forth between the swinging doors and, at sight of the pair, bowed with the dignity and importance of a Turveydrop.
"Ha! Our ecclesiastical Falstaff in all his glory!" said the elder of the two, with something like a sneer, a trifle of impatience, too, in his tone and manner, for he had been talking eagerly to his companion, and the interruption came at the wrong moment.
"And he salutes Prince Hal with all loyalty," answered the portly sexton. "You bear the sunshine of the savannas with you, Captain Wallis. If the advance guard of the South come in this fashion what will the main body bring us?"
"Better manners, Brown; and, possibly, better sense," was the sharp, irritable answer, and the speaker, a tall, slender, most distinguished-looking man, turned abruptly and, linking his arm in that of his companion, led him a few paces away and again began his eager, low-toned talk. It was evident that the sudden apparition had annoyed—even shaken— him. It was evident, too, that he resented the semi-familiar manner of the renowned sexton and meant that he should know it.
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Two young men stood chatting in subdued tone on the stone step at the main entrance when the heavy portals unexpectedly swung inward. Broadway at the moment was silent and well nigh deserted. None of the dozen "bus" lines profaned the Sabbath stillness of those days by jar of hoof or rumble of wheel upon the Russ pavement. Cabs and hansoms were unknown. - A policeman sauntered along the opposite sidewalk in front of the St. Denis. A few private carriages were already drawn up along the curb awaiting the coming forth of their pious owners—some of the coachmen looking choked in their heavy winter capes; but not one moving vehicle;, not a dozen pedestrians, could be.-GQttrited-m the two blocks between Tenth and TwelttH street.---It -was before the days of cable cars. It was before Raines laws had been heard of, yet Phelan's great billiard rooms adjoining the church on the Tenth street side, with everything appertaining to them, were closed.
An almost rural silence reigned. The murmured conversation between the gallants upon the church steps was audible to them and evidently intended to be audible to no one else, for it ceased suddenly as Brown strode forth between the swinging doors and, at sight of the pair, bowed with the dignity and importance of a Turveydrop.
"Ha! Our ecclesiastical Falstaff in all his glory!" said the elder of the two, with something like a sneer, a trifle of impatience, too, in his tone and manner, for he had been talking eagerly to his companion, and the interruption came at the wrong moment.
"And he salutes Prince Hal with all loyalty," answered the portly sexton. "You bear the sunshine of the savannas with you, Captain Wallis. If the advance guard of the South come in this fashion what will the main body bring us?"
"Better manners, Brown; and, possibly, better sense," was the sharp, irritable answer, and the speaker, a tall, slender, most distinguished-looking man, turned abruptly and, linking his arm in that of his companion, led him a few paces away and again began his eager, low-toned talk. It was evident that the sudden apparition had annoyed—even shaken— him. It was evident, too, that he resented the semi-familiar manner of the renowned sexton and meant that he should know it.
A broken sword; a tale of the civil war (1905)
IT was a soft, balmy'April morning—early April at that—and New York in general, and Grace Church in particular, had been taken by surprise. Furs and heavy overcoats had been the vogue up to Friday night and, as noontide of Sunday drew near, and, with it, the climax of the Doctor's sermon, Brown, the big sexton, had thrown open the outer doors and was actually mopping his brow.
Two young men stood chatting in subdued tone on the stone step at the main entrance when the heavy portals unexpectedly swung inward. Broadway at the moment was silent and well nigh deserted. None of the dozen "bus" lines profaned the Sabbath stillness of those days by jar of hoof or rumble of wheel upon the Russ pavement. Cabs and hansoms were unknown. - A policeman sauntered along the opposite sidewalk in front of the St. Denis. A few private carriages were already drawn up along the curb awaiting the coming forth of their pious owners—some of the coachmen looking choked in their heavy winter capes; but not one moving vehicle;, not a dozen pedestrians, could be.-GQttrited-m the two blocks between Tenth and TwelttH street.---It -was before the days of cable cars. It was before Raines laws had been heard of, yet Phelan's great billiard rooms adjoining the church on the Tenth street side, with everything appertaining to them, were closed.
An almost rural silence reigned. The murmured conversation between the gallants upon the church steps was audible to them and evidently intended to be audible to no one else, for it ceased suddenly as Brown strode forth between the swinging doors and, at sight of the pair, bowed with the dignity and importance of a Turveydrop.
"Ha! Our ecclesiastical Falstaff in all his glory!" said the elder of the two, with something like a sneer, a trifle of impatience, too, in his tone and manner, for he had been talking eagerly to his companion, and the interruption came at the wrong moment.
"And he salutes Prince Hal with all loyalty," answered the portly sexton. "You bear the sunshine of the savannas with you, Captain Wallis. If the advance guard of the South come in this fashion what will the main body bring us?"
"Better manners, Brown; and, possibly, better sense," was the sharp, irritable answer, and the speaker, a tall, slender, most distinguished-looking man, turned abruptly and, linking his arm in that of his companion, led him a few paces away and again began his eager, low-toned talk. It was evident that the sudden apparition had annoyed—even shaken— him. It was evident, too, that he resented the semi-familiar manner of the renowned sexton and meant that he should know it.
Two young men stood chatting in subdued tone on the stone step at the main entrance when the heavy portals unexpectedly swung inward. Broadway at the moment was silent and well nigh deserted. None of the dozen "bus" lines profaned the Sabbath stillness of those days by jar of hoof or rumble of wheel upon the Russ pavement. Cabs and hansoms were unknown. - A policeman sauntered along the opposite sidewalk in front of the St. Denis. A few private carriages were already drawn up along the curb awaiting the coming forth of their pious owners—some of the coachmen looking choked in their heavy winter capes; but not one moving vehicle;, not a dozen pedestrians, could be.-GQttrited-m the two blocks between Tenth and TwelttH street.---It -was before the days of cable cars. It was before Raines laws had been heard of, yet Phelan's great billiard rooms adjoining the church on the Tenth street side, with everything appertaining to them, were closed.
An almost rural silence reigned. The murmured conversation between the gallants upon the church steps was audible to them and evidently intended to be audible to no one else, for it ceased suddenly as Brown strode forth between the swinging doors and, at sight of the pair, bowed with the dignity and importance of a Turveydrop.
"Ha! Our ecclesiastical Falstaff in all his glory!" said the elder of the two, with something like a sneer, a trifle of impatience, too, in his tone and manner, for he had been talking eagerly to his companion, and the interruption came at the wrong moment.
"And he salutes Prince Hal with all loyalty," answered the portly sexton. "You bear the sunshine of the savannas with you, Captain Wallis. If the advance guard of the South come in this fashion what will the main body bring us?"
"Better manners, Brown; and, possibly, better sense," was the sharp, irritable answer, and the speaker, a tall, slender, most distinguished-looking man, turned abruptly and, linking his arm in that of his companion, led him a few paces away and again began his eager, low-toned talk. It was evident that the sudden apparition had annoyed—even shaken— him. It was evident, too, that he resented the semi-familiar manner of the renowned sexton and meant that he should know it.
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Product Details
| BN ID: | 2940013700024 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | tbooks |
| Publication date: | 01/02/2012 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 334 |
| File size: | 630 KB |
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